


Jacob's Ladder

by AimeeLouWrites



Series: Divine Comedy [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: "yeah thats the last part Im done writing this series" said the lying author who lies repeatedly, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Crack Treated Seriously, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Honestly Cloud isn't much better but at least he's trying, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Ok I made it better, Panic Attacks, Sephiroth has the EQ of a particularly dense brick, This is a Good End but at the same time it's uh, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, You're Welcome, but this time he gets it :), it's not great chief, kind of, really more of a Better End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AimeeLouWrites/pseuds/AimeeLouWrites
Summary: "Genesis casts without thinking, without considering how he shouldn’t be able to reach them at this distance, not for another few precious seconds.Sleep!he begs, his insides tearing apart with the effort.No more! Just go to SLEEP!"Or: Cloud is ready to sacrifice himself to save everyone he loves. Luckily for him, they love him back just as fiercely.An alternate ending forSeventh Circle, Ninth Sphere
Relationships: Angeal Hewley & Cloud Strife, Genesis Rhapsodos & Cloud Strife, Sephiroth & Cloud Strife, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife
Series: Divine Comedy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804864
Comments: 107
Kudos: 401





	1. Butterfly Effect

**Author's Note:**

> You really should read Seventh Circle, Ninth Sphere before this, but just in case you don't want to, here's what you need to know:
> 
> Seph traveled back in time and dragged Cloud along with him. He stole Cloud as a six-month-old and used the two or so years it took for Cloud to get access to his adult memories in order to condition Cloud to at least kind of love and trust him. He then spent thirteen years making Cloud as strong as possible while Angeal, Genesis, and Zack spectated and served as unwitting hostages. Now Cloud and Sephiroth are in their final confrontation out in the wastes. Cloud is sixteen, Seph is twenty-six.
> 
> Godspeed.

They’ve long known that Sephiroth and Cloud are warriors on a level far beyond them—beyond what the Science Department should have been able to give them, even—but this clash of titans is a rude wake-up call. For over  _ two hours  _ they watch the pair fight without pause, rattling the stones beneath their aerial battleground. The air  _ screams,  _ torn asunder by the incredible speed of their clashing blades. The Firsts don’t even need to see them to know who's fighting. No one else on the planet is capable of such violence.

“They’re really trying to kill each other,” Zack whispers, stricken with the same disbelieving dread as Genesis and Angeal. 

Must it always be their fate to stand by and watch, unable to intervene? 

Genesis really should have been more forceful about keeping Cloud with him this morning. The boy was positively serene, his usual hollow and wary expression smoothed into a placid mask. The moment Genesis saw that expression, he’d remembered the PTSD support seminars Angeal had dragged him to in an effort to, ironically enough, help Cloud. The lecturer’s words were forever ingrained in him after so many repetitions:  _ the sign of an impending suicide attempt is often a severe and sudden change in behavior or attitude, regardless of how good or bad that change seems. _

Sudden and severe—two perfectly apt descriptors of Cloud’s newfound good humor. The boy had been a relentlessly grim little thing since he was  _ six.  _ Genesis really shouldn’t have taken no for an answer.

Distantly, Cloud screams a denial and there comes a sound like the striking of a bell, followed by a crack and a deep rumble. Even where they stand, nearly a mile away, the force of the impact kicks up the sand around their feet. 

His breath catches. Was that Cloud who hit the ground? 

The sounds of battle don’t pick back up. Genesis doesn’t think—he  _ runs. _ Zack and Angeal follow hot on his heels. He’s paying for his mistake now. They all are. 

_ Be alive, _ he prays, remembering the feeling of a broken six-year-old body in his arms.  _ Oh Goddess, please let him be alive _ . 

Sephiroth and Cloud emerge fractionally from the billowing clouds of debris as the Firsts close the distance. Cloud is mercifully upright but listing slightly, leaning his weight on his sword. Two long, bloodied wings hang limply on his back ( _ and just where the hell did he get those? _ ), the ends dragging in the dirt. Sephiroth is a hazy silhouette beyond him, standing in an impact crater. 

_Hurry!_ says instinct. Genesis practically flies over the terrain, lengthening his stride until the tendons in his hips begin to strain painfully.

Sephiroth’s face comes into view, expression confused and searching. He looks utterly  _ lost _ as his single narrow black wing slowly folds down to rest against his back. When he speaks, his voice just barely carries enough for the three approaching Firsts to hear.

_ “This is not the victory I expected. At every turn, you surprise me, Cloud.” _

Cloud laughs. It's not a nice sound.

“No,” Angeal gasps, unease turning to horror. Genesis can’t spare the effort to look back and see Zack’s expression, but he knows that the young man must feel the same instinctive terror at that laugh that he does.

_ “Sephiroth, sometimes I wonder if you know me at all.” _

All of Cloud’s weight is on his sword, shoulders and head drooping. Genesis knows the tell-tale signs of the boy’s impending collapse like the back of his own hand. The tremble in his legs is visible even at a distance. A pool of blood soaks into the sand around him, stark red.

_ “Indeed.” _

Sephiroth proffers his right hand.

“Faster,” Zack pleads, but the rhythm of his boots against the ground doesn’t— _ can’t _ —pick up. Genesis doesn’t know if Zack is begging himself, or them, or the goddess, but they’re already giving it everything they have. 

_ “All this for you, Cloud. Only ever for you.” _

Sephiroth’s expression is terrifyingly soft, gentle almost, but if there’s one thing they know, it’s that  _ gentle  _ and  _ Sephiroth  _ together mean nothing but danger. Genesis’s heart leaps into his throat, choking him. “No!” he wheezes, pleads. “Don’t!” Then Cloud  _ raises his hand to take Sephiroth’s _ and Genesis can’t stop the scream that tears from his throat. How he has the breath left for it, he doesn’t know.  _ “CLOUD!” _

Their boy—sixteen, just sixteen, still a  _ child _ —turns to them. His expression is so raw it nearly sends Genesis to his knees: resignation, desperation, grief, exhaustion, and fragile, dawning hope. The older Firsts may not know exactly what’s going on, but  _ nothing  _ good can come of Cloud taking the hand offered to him.

“Cloud! Cloud! Just look at me!” Angeal entreats, just as terrified as Genesis. “Don’t look away!” A few more moments and they’ll reach the pair. Just a few hundred yards left to cross.

Sephiroth’s lips move as he whispers Cloud’s name, eyes never straying toward them. 

Cloud turns away.

_ “No!” _ Zack screams, voice cracking with the force of it. “Cloud don’t do it! Look at me! Please!”

Genesis casts without thinking, without considering how he shouldn’t be able to reach them at this distance, not for another few precious seconds.  _ Sleep!  _ he begs, his insides tearing apart with the effort.  _ No more! Just go to SLEEP! _

Cloud buckles instantly, slumping to the ground, and Sephiroth does too. From sheer relief Genesis follows, losing his grip on Rapier in the process. Angeal skids to a stop, doubling back to help him, but Zack continues straight forward until he can drop to his knees by Cloud’s fallen body.

“It’s alright, Zack!” Genesis calls, choking a little on the blood that runs down the back of his throat from his nose. “He’s just asleep.”

“You cast Sleep? From _ here?” _ Angeal says in shaky astonishment, bracing Genesis against his side. His face is pale with the terror of the inexplicable  _ something  _ that nearly happened just yards and seconds away. As always, he grounds himself by fussing. “That explains your bloody nose, at least.”

Zack pulls Cloud into his arms, maneuvering awkwardly around the wings. “It’s ok, buddy,” he croons, on the razor edge of panic himself as he activates the Cure materia in his bracer. “It’s ok, I’ve gotcha. Everything’s gonna be ok.” The open wounds seal shut, but Zack is no expert. Cloud needs the attention of a professional, and soon. 

“Don’t wake him,” Genesis warns, shakily pressing the back of his wrist to his dripping nose as Angeal helps him up.

Zack turns an incredulous look to him, holding Cloud to his chest if someone might snatch the boy away at any second. “What?”

_ “Don’t  _ wake him,” Genesis repeats firmly. “Something was... _ wrong _ at the end there. We all saw it. I don’t want  _ either  _ of them awake until we get them somewhere they can’t hurt anyone, including themselves.” 

He ruthlessly suppresses the impulse to drive Rapier through the Demon’s heart while he lies unconscious on the ground. Not yet. Not until he knows exactly what Cloud was in danger from. With those two, he doesn’t dare risk it until he has the whole story. There’s a very real chance he could somehow make it worse for Cloud if he acted impulsively.

“Where could we go? We can’t take them back to the Tower,” says Angeal, brows pulling together.

Genesis blows out a gusty sigh, sheathing Rapier and his bloodlust. “No, I suppose you’re right.”

“And it’s not as if we have the power to hold them ourselves anyways, not unless you were looking at a completely different fight than I was.”

“Well there must be  _ something,  _ Angeal.”

Zack interjects. “Why not one of Hollander’s labs then? One of the ones outside of Midgar? If we get Cloud into a holding tank and talk some sense into him, then we can wake Seph up after. Cloud was a match for him, barely, but he definitely couldn’t do anything if we were there too. Plus we could probably get some doctors there pretty easy.”

Angeal nods. “Good idea, Zack. I think it would work, right Genesis?”

“As long as I keep them asleep, yes. Alright, Angeal you get Sephiroth. I’ll get Cloud’s sword. Let’s go.”


	2. A Decade of Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud tells the truth (but not all of it)

Cloud is asleep on a cot in the middle of a holding tank fit for a Behemoth. Zack watches the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath the sterile white sheets, sitting in a chair by his head. Cloud’s hatred of anything Science isn’t exactly a secret, so Zack insisted on waiting for his friend to wake up from inside the tank. Hopefully, that would at least stall his inevitable freak-out until they could figure out what his state of mind was. They put Sephiroth on the other side of the facility with Genesis, as far from Cloud as physically possible, while Angeal waits patiently outside of Cloud’s tank. 

Zack sighs a little, shifting in his seat. Shiny pink scars and fading yellow bruises pepper what little of Cloud’s skin is visible. He looks twelve again, soft and serene, with barely a trace of the wild boy who fought the strongest man on the planet to a near-standstill. Who will he be when he wakes? A sweet, sleepy teenager? Their weary, wary friend? The wild-eyed boy laughing and reaching to take Sephiroth’s hand?

Zack doesn’t even know what happened, much less what to expect. He just wants Cloud to _let them help already._

When Cloud finally starts to stir, pale eyelashes fluttering, Zack leans forward and reaches for him. “Hey buddy,” he says softly, brushing the hair from his friend’s eyes. “How you feeling?”

Cloud’s lips work silently for a moment, eyes opened to slivers, before he groans and sluggishly turns in Zack’s direction. “Wha…?”

“You’ve been asleep for a few days, Cloudy-boy. Tuckered yourself right out.” His laugh is light, but there’s an uneasy warble to it that Cloud can’t possibly miss. The blond blinks slowly, confused, and Zack softens. “Still out of it, huh? S’okay, buddy, go back to sleep.” He settles his hand on top of Cloud’s head.

For a moment it seems like he might do just that, eyes sliding shut, but then he gasps and bolts upright. “Sephiroth!” he cries, scrambling for a weapon and tangling up in the sheets.

“Woah!” Zack catches his shoulders before he can topple out of the cot and add another concussion to his laundry-list of recent injuries. “Hey, Cloudy, it’s alright, calm down. He’s not here.”

"What? This is...lab? Where is he? _Zack, what did he do?"_ Cloud’s breath comes in short gasps, pupils razor-thin within glowing irises as panic sets in. His face has gone so pale that the bluish, trailing veins beneath his skin are easily visible in the fluorescent light of the tank.

Zack slides from the chair to the cot and pulls Cloud into his arms, restraining and comforting in the same gesture. "Shh, it's okay. It's alright. He didn't do anything, okay? This is a lot more about what _we_ did. Everything's fine, so just calm down and breathe."

"What... _you_ did?" Cloud mumbles, too confused and disoriented to fight him. He must still be pretty out of it, even with the sudden adrenaline rush.

“Genesis put you both to sleep at the end of your uh… spat.”

Cloud is silent for a moment, arms limp at his sides and chin hooked snugly over Zack’s shoulder. When he speaks, he sounds shaken and plaintive. “But...but it was finally going to _end._ I was…”

 _Definitely_ still out of it, but that last part makes Zack’s heart jolt nervously in his chest. He pulls back and carefully cradles Cloud’s jaw with both hands, ducking a little so that their eyes can meet without the obstruction of Cloud’s bangs. “You were what, Cloud?” he prompts.

“He’s—I can’t feel...he’s asleep?”

Zack bites the edge of his lip and worries about the dull haze in his friend’s eyes. It isn’t fading at all. He tries to gentle his voice even further, mimicking Angeal’s soothing rumble. “It’s ok, Cloud. Genesis is keeping him asleep until we finish talking. He can’t hurt you. Can you tell me what you were going to do at the end of the fight? Why were you going to take his hand?”

Cloud is such a grim person that it’s normally difficult to remember he’s only sixteen, but in this moment he looks even younger than he did when Zack first met him. His eyes seem to consume his entire face, glassy and confused. “I was...I…” he sucks in a ragged breath, panic returning in full force. “I had to. _I had to._ I c-can’t…”

“You had to what, Cloud?” Zack asks, feeling his friend’s pulse skyrocket beneath his palms. His touch doesn’t seem to be grounding Cloud at all.

“I had to,” Cloud repeats, over and over again until it becomes clear that Zack is not going to get any kind of coherent answer while he’s in this state. 

“Let me,” says Angeal, setting a hand on Zack’s shoulder. The younger First startles badly, having missed his mentor’s entrance, but then relief floods his chest. Wordless, he lets go and moves back to the chair, allowing Angeal to take his position on the cot. The older man sets his open PHS on his thigh before reaching for his distressed charge.

“Cloud, you’re having another panic attack,” Angeal says in a calm, even voice, taking one of the blond’s hands and beginning to methodically trace lines over his fingers. “I’m here, Zack is here with me, and Genesis is on speaker. No one is in danger from Sephiroth. Focus on my voice. Can you feel me touching your hand?”

That earns a jerky nod and a deeper, if ragged, inhale. “Good,” Angeal says, pressing Cloud’s palm over the center of his chest. “Now take a deep breath with me. Ready?”

Angeal slowly brings Cloud back down, guiding him through each steady breath and encouraging him to relax his tensed muscles one at a time. He ends with a grounding exercise and Cloud’s eyes finally clear, the bright mako glow dying down to a subdued gleam. 

Cloud slumps forward, resting the crown of his head against Angeal’s bicep. “Fucking embarrassing,” he mutters, wrung out.

“Believe me, darling,” Genesis says from the PHS on Angeal’s thigh, “I would be in a much worse state if I were in your position. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Angeal settles his hand on the back of Cloud’s head and visibly braces himself for the challenge of prying answers from the stubborn teenager. This time, they can’t afford to take no for an answer. Zack reaches out and clasps Angeal’s shoulder in silent support.

“Cloud,” says Angeal, gentle but implacable, “you knew exactly what was going to happen if you took Sephiroth’s hand, didn’t you?”

The boy nods into his arm and doesn’t move.

“Cloud.”

“I had to,” he whispers. “I _have_ to. But I...I can’t think about it or I’ll...I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”

Angeal draws in a slow, patient breath. Zack fights the urge to interject, to grab Cloud’s shoulders and shake him until he finally just _says what’s wrong_ so they can start fixing it. It’s so much like that first confrontation four years ago that his head spins. The same kind of helpless fear is starting to creep back in the longer Cloud is cryptic about what exactly he ‘has to do.’

Angeal echoes Zack’s thoughts. “And what is it you ‘have to’ do?”

“You can’t stop me.” The terror jittering in Cloud’s voice stands in stark contrast to the iron certainty of his words—not, _you shouldn’t stop me,_ but _you cannot prevent me_ . Zack feels a little like throwing up, and Cloud hasn’t even said what it is he intends to _do._

Angeal visibly struggles to keep calm, pressing his lips into a thin line. Genesis speaks up from the PHS before he can compose himself. “If we cannot stop you, then there’s no harm in telling us,” he reasons.

Cloud laughs. It's nearly identical to the laugh he gave just before Sephiroth held his hand out in the wastes. The hairs on Zack’s arms stand on end at the sound.

“It was a trade,” says Cloud, shaky but light, the casual nonchalance of a dark truth given by a boy too exhausted to respect its gravity. His forehead remains pressed to Angeal’s arm. His hands tremble in his lap. “Just a simple trade. Me for...well, everyone.”

It’s like all the air suddenly gets sucked out of the containment cell. _“What?”_ breathes Genesis, voice unsteady. “What do you mean, _you?”_

But Cloud doesn’t seem to be willing to elaborate. One shaking hand moves to grip Angeal’s forearm, seeking an anchor in the storm of his distress. “I have to do this. You can’t stop me,” is all he says. This time, it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“How were you trading yourself, Cloud?” Angeal asks with a calm he doesn’t feel—Zack can see the disconnect in his eyes as he takes precisely-controlled breaths.

“I lost, so I made a deal and gave him the only thing that was safe to give. Me.”

No. _No way._ Zack can’t bite his tongue anymore, not when his brother in all but blood is saying things like that. 

“You can’t _give people,_ Cloud,” he bursts out, dropping to his knees by the cot so he can grip his friend’s curled-up leg. “Not even yourself.” Cloud opens his mouth, but Zack steamrolls on. “And it doesn’t _matter_ if you were losing, because you _both_ lost to Genesis and now Sephiroth is asleep, okay? So you don’t _have_ to trade yourself.”

This finally prompts Cloud to shift his head to the side, just enough to meet Zack’s eyes. His expression is painful to look at: hollow and grieving and despairing and oddly indulgent. “Zack,” he says, voice cracking, “you just...you don’t get it. You can’t _stop_ Sephiroth. No one can stop Sephiroth. I was your only hope and I—” He cuts off with a choked sound, eyes fever-bright. “...I wasn't strong enough.”

 _“Bullshit!”_ Genesis explodes, so loud that the PHS crackles with static. “I could put Rapier through his heart _right now_ and he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger to stop me!”

Cloud laughs again, fully hysterical, and Zack hates the way his eyes go wild and distant. What kind of pain does someone have to be in to laugh that way?

“That wouldn’t kill him!” Cloud lilts, as if he’s responding to a joke. “You don’t understand what he _is,_ Gen! What he made _me!_ This is the only way to end this without— _urk!”_

His wild tirade gets cut off when Angeal suddenly hauls him into a tight embrace, curling around the tiny sixteen-year-old as if he can use his body to shield Cloud from the horror of his own thoughts. “Stop,” Angeal commands roughly. _“Stop.”_

Maybe, despite the terrible conviction in Cloud’s words, all hope is not lost: his arms come up to return the embrace, taking fistfuls of Angeal’s black turtleneck and squeezing until his knuckles turn white. “I have to,” he says wretchedly, muffled in the older man’s collarbone. “I can’t let him hurt you. I couldn’t take it.”

Zack’s heart hurts at the declaration, but Angeal seems to have latched on to another issue entirely. “Cloud,” he says, pressing his cheek to the top of the blond’s head and cradling the curve of his skull in one palm, “what exactly do you think you _are?”_

The muscles beneath Zack’s hands tense dramatically. Cloud makes a pained, desperate noise, tightening his grip on Angeal’s shirt until his arms tremble. “You already saw the w…the wings,” he whispers in the same voice one might use when confessing to murder.

“You have to tell me what that _means,_ love.”

Maybe it’s the very, very rare occurrence of Angeal using an endearment that finally wrenches the truth from him. Cloud whimpers— _whimpers_ —and after a decade of steady effort and building trust, the awful truth finally comes spilling out.

“He’s—he’s a _god,_ Ange. I’m—that’s not an exaggeration. He has the power to...he made me this. He made me like _him._ I wasn’t joking. If you kill him, he’ll just come back. As long as I’m alive, he can’t die. Maybe vice versa too, I don’t know. I keep...telling myself that I’m human but...I’m not. I’m really not. I’m something else now.”

Cloud pauses, trembling and panting. Zack gets up from the floor and crams onto the cot, wrapping himself around both of them and holding as tight as he can. Everything Cloud is saying makes a terrible kind of sense, explaining the oddities that defined him from the very beginning. Zack just wishes they could have coaxed Cloud into letting them help sooner.

“He’s always been focused on m-me. He’s...patient. I thought—I thought I could win. I thought I could beat him if I just... He waited until now to...but I made him choose. He was too arrogant. He made me too strong, strong enough to end myself even if I couldn’t end him so I-I made him choose. That was the hand. He chose—h-he chose me.” He makes a sound somewhere between a keen and a sob before forcing himself to continue. “It’s a good trade. Worth it. I...I h-have to…I can’t bear to give this up, but I _have to..._ ”

Angeal remains silent after Cloud’s voice fails. Zack doesn’t know why Genesis isn’t speaking, but for his own part he feels a deep-rooted instinct to let Angeal take the lead on this. He doesn’t know what he would have said anyways, so he just presses his face into Cloud’s shoulder and waits.

“Cloud,” Angeal says at length, quiet and unsteady, “I… before I say anything else, I want you to understand that Sephiroth deserves to die for what he’s done to you. If I thought it would work, I’d go put my sword through his heart _myself.”_

Zack jerks upright in surprise at the unexpected vitriol, leaning over a little to see his mentor’s face where it’s still tucked tight against Cloud’s hair. The man’s expression is a rictus of righteous fury and devastating grief and Zack understands suddenly that Angeal thinks he _failed_ Cloud. There’s no time to contemplate his realization, as the man continues.

“With that being said… have you ever actually _talked_ to him about what he wants? Has he ever said it explicitly?”

Cloud giggles hysterically, keeping himself thoroughly buried in Angeal’s arms. “Dunno if you’ve noticed,” he says, “that neither of us are good at talking under the best of circumstances. But…” he trails off, thinking. “I don’t think he really… _knew_ what he wanted. I don’t think he thought about it until I made him choose, I mean. His—someone told him what to do, once, and he just...assumed that was what he wanted. I guess it was an easy choice in the end because I’m the only thing he ever found on his own.”

Genesis finally speaks up, voice rough. “And what, _exactly,_ does he want from you?”

“An equal,” Cloud says softly, the words nearly lost in Angeal’s shirt. “Or a rival, I guess. Someone who can keep up and stay with him willingly. Forever.”

And Zack has to stop and stare because… well, he never developed a specific grudge against Sephiroth because he never really _understood_ the man. He was Cloud’s tormentor, yes, but only with the goal of making him strong. Cloud always worried that Seph would hurt them, but he never did, maybe because his and Cloud’s goals largely aligned. His motivations were always unclear before, but this...his suspicions can’t be right. He must be misunderstanding Cloud’s explanation somehow.

“Cloud,” Zack says slowly, “Help me out here. I’ve gotta be missing something. He didn’t do all this to you because he’s _lonely_ and wants to be able to spar without holding back, right?”

Cloud sits up, which Angeal reluctantly allows. "What," he says, twisting to look at Zack in disbelief. "No way, I— no, it’s not that simple." Then he pauses to think about it for a moment and disbelief morphs into incredulity. "No way," he repeats. "It can't be that simple...right?"

Zack scrubs a hand through his hair. Why couldn’t he have been wrong this time? “I...if he really gave up on his other goal that quickly—” Something to do with _having everyone,_ whatever the hell that meant. What, world domination? He kind of doesn’t want to know at this point.

“It _can’t_ be that simple! He’s not that stupi—no, okay, he is that stupid. _I’m_ that stupid.” Cloud buries his head in his hands. “That almost makes it worse. What...what am I supposed to do with _that?”_

"I hate to say it," Zack says, "but if he can't be k—uh... if there's no other way to solve this, maybe we should talk to him about it?"

“But I don’t know what… I… would that help?” he turns the question to Angeal, bewildered.

It’s Genesis who answers, though. “If you’ve never asked, then it might,” he says with a deeply irritated reluctance. “Especially if he hasn’t realized his own motivations.”

Angeal sighs and drags a hand down his face. Zack grimaces sympathetically. The poor man looks like he’s aged ten years in the past ten minutes. “Alright, fine,” Angeal says. “At this point, I doubt it could make this worse.”


	3. Painted Into a Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud wins (but he also doesn't) and there's a surprising amount of overlap between "genocidal demigod with low EQ" and "extremely powerful eldritch toddler"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do maintain that Crack!Seph and Psycho!Seph are the same person in different universes. That comes out here a little bit. In order to get a Good End (or at least a Better End) I had to dip a bit into Crack Taken Seriously territory.
> 
> I also feel _really_ bad for Gen and Ange and Zack at this point.

When Genesis pulls Cloud into a hug and squeezes so tight he can barely breathe, Cloud knows he fucked up. Genesis doesn’t  _ do  _ hugs. Zack is the most touchy-feely of them, being a puppy in human form. Angeal is the second touchiest in his own way, though Cloud strongly suspects that he trained himself to be his special form of tactile based on child psychology books and PTSD support seminars. Cloud himself has mixed feelings, given the opposing forces of Zack’s full-body form of friendship and Sephiroth’s penchant for expressing possessiveness through touch. Genesis, on the other hand, is practically the living embodiment of a cat.

So yeah, Genesis hugging him like this? Like he needs to reassure himself that Cloud hasn’t vanished into smoke? Cloud must have  _ really  _ freaked him out earlier. He resists the urge to squirm guiltily. It’s not like he had a choice in the matter.

“If you  _ ever, _ ” says Genesis into his hair, “pull a stunt like that again, Cloud Strife, so help me I will lock you in Angeal’s apartment and have Zack sit on you for a  _ month. _ ”

“Cruel and unusual punishment,” Cloud grumbles into his coat.

The man huffs a laugh, holding tight for a few moments longer before letting go. “Are you sure you don’t want me to try carving the bastard’s heart out first? Surely  _ one  _ attempt cannot hurt, hmm? It would certainly make me feel  _ much  _ better.”

Cloud rolls his eyes. “You'd have to kill me first for it to work, so yes, I’m sure.” He turns to look through the thick glass at where Sephiroth is lying on a cot six inches too short for his tall frame, dead to the world. He resists the urge to take Tsurugi from his back and hold it like a security blanket. At least the others were insightful enough to give him a fresh uniform and return his weapon and harness. He doesn’t think he could have done this unarmed and dressed in scrubs.

"Alright," he says, wincing when it comes out a good deal shaker than he wanted, "wake him up." Genesis grumbles something vaguely homicidal under his breath, but does as Cloud asks.

Sephiroth doesn’t do anything as plebeian as wake up like a normal person. No, one moment he is insensible, the next he is fully aware, head turning unerringly to Cloud. He sits up smoothly, not even bothering to take in his surroundings. The darkness in the back of Cloud’s mind ripples and expands, coating him like a possessive film.

“My Cloud,” Sephiroth greets, outwardly unperturbed. The darkness, however, is telling the blond a different story entirely. It’s... _ holding  _ him, possessively of course, but also with urgency and something that might be betrayal. Cloud suddenly has the strangest mental image of a child holding a little Chocobo plushie possessively to his chest and away from the adults trying to take it from him. 

Sephiroth continues as Cloud bats the mental image away. “Does your word mean so little to you that you would abandon it in the same moment you give it?”

Definitely betrayed then. Cloud takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to order his thoughts. Angeal’s hand comes down on one of his shoulders, Genesis’s hand on the other. It makes him feel a bit like a kid standing between his parents, but at this point he'll take all the support he can get. 

“I did mean it,” he says quietly, eyes hard. “I would do anything for them. But I think we need to talk about what’s going on. I’m not the only one who made a snap decision back there.”

The darkness presses in, probing his sincerity. He breathes evenly, swallowing his reflexive terror and opening himself up as much as he dares. If he wants to make any progress on actual communication, then Sephiroth needs to believe him.

After what feels like an eternity, the darkness settles back down, curling around him tightly. Jade-colored cat eyes slide shut. 

“Sephiroth,” he asks for the second time, “what do you want?”

“What I have  _ always  _ wanted,” the man says without opening his eyes. “You.”

Cloud sighs and scrubs one hand across his face. “Yes, obviously. Me, the planet, victory, whatever. But what does that  _ mean?  _ More importantly,  _ why?  _ I’m not asking because I need to know, Sephiroth. I’m asking because I think  _ you  _ need to know. You put all this effort into bringing me here and spending so many years...” he trails off with a wince, remembering too late that Gen, Ange, and Zack are standing  _ right there.  _ Hopefully they won’t read too much into his words.

The silver-haired man opens his eyes and sits up a little straighter, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and regarding Cloud intently. “Ah. I see. You always did prefer prevarication, didn’t you?” he murmurs, gaze flickering briefly to the other Firsts.

“That is  _ not  _ what we’re discussing,” Cloud snaps, going rigid. Genesis’s grip on his shoulder tightens for a moment. Cloud can practically feel him biting his tongue.

Sephiroth pauses long enough to make the blond sweat before conceding. “No, I suppose not,” he says with a slight incline of his head. He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “You ask what I want, my Cloud, but you already know the answer. I want  _ you, _ obedient by my side and relentless beneath my blade. I want you to  _ listen  _ to me instead of defying me at every turn.”

“Well then what the hell do you call the past sixteen years!” Cloud demands. “I have done nothing  _ but  _ listen to you because you’ve been  _ holding my friends hostage!” _

“Obviously,” Sephiroth drawls. “I had to restrain the worst of your impulses somehow. Tell me you would not have thrown yourself into death had I not. But no, that is also irrelevant. Though you remain stubborn, you have come close enough to the correct realization for my momentary satisfaction.”

“And what ‘realization’ is that?” Cloud asks sarcastically.

Sephiroth’s eyes are intense, bearing down on Cloud with the force of Meteor, pinning him in place. “That you belong at my side from now until forever,” he says, barely above a whisper. “That you alone are worthy of the honor. That you alone can bear the cost.”

Cloud sucks in a shuddering breath, abruptly off-balance, because...well, he knew that. He knew, but to hear it laid out so bluntly spears him through, like Masamune in the reactor so long ago. 

Sephiroth continues before he can recover. “Is that not what you yourself have always claimed, in deed if not in word? Who else would you dare ask this of? Genesis? Angeal?” He arches his eyebrows.  _ “Zack?  _ Oh, my Stormcloud. Denial ill becomes you.”

“Shut up,” Cloud says, but it’s weak. His chest is starting to feel tight. He wishes there wasn’t a layer of glass between them so that he could punch that stupid smug face. “Shut up! I—”

“You are the one who asked. I see no reason to lie to you, least of all about this.”

Cloud changes tack abruptly, unwilling to let the discussion go on any longer. “Why did you give up your ‘birthright’ so easily?”

There’s something distinctly predatory in the slant of Sephiroth’s eyes, but he seems content to allow Cloud his clumsy deflection. “Yes, yes, I will admit to a substantial realization of my own. What would be the point of it without you by my side?” He shakes his head indulgently. “Which you knew before I did, or at least wagered on it. Is that not why you said what you did?” His eyes flicker meaningfully to the other Firsts. Ice slides down Cloud’s spine. 

_ No,  _ he thinks hard at the darkness in his head, glaring murderously into cat-slit green eyes,  _ don’t you dare. _

The corners of Sephiroth’s mouth quirk the tiniest amount. “Is that not why you held your own life for ransom? Why you threatened to, how did you phrase it,  _ end yourself?” _

_ “Excuse me,” _ Genesis says icily at the same time that Angeal exclaims “you  _ what?” _

“Cloud?” Zack asks in a small voice.

_ I fucking hate you,  _ he thinks at Sepherioth before scrubbing one hand across his eyes and tipping his head back. “I—fine! Yes, I did threaten him with ending myself. It’s not that big a… what else was I supposed to do?”

“What could ever be worth throwing your life away like that, Cloud?” asks Angeal, a tightly suppressed frisson of anguish in his voice.

Cloud looks down, inspecting the tops of his boots as if they hold the key to getting out of this  _ indescribably  _ uncomfortable conversation. He knows why they’re reacting this way. They don’t understand that ‘trading’ himself to Sephiroth as a fate far worse than mere death. They don’t understand that he’s already died before. The mere state of being alive means very little to him, after everything he’s endured. 

“I told you before,” he says, quiet but firm, “ _ you  _ are worth everything I could give.”

Then he squares his shoulders, lifting his chin to meet Sephiroth’s smug gaze defiantly, and holds up a quelling hand to the other Firsts. “No, don’t argue. That’s not the point right now and I refuse to let this asshole derail the conversation just so he can watch me squirm.” Gen and Ange’s grips on his shoulders are tight almost to the point of discomfort and he can feel Zack’s worried hovering at his back. Blessedly, though, they listen to him and stay quiet.

He continues, now determined to get this over with as quickly as possible, even if ‘getting this over with’ is going to end in another battle to the death. At this point, he’d prefer it to  _ talking. _ “Sephiroth. Are you really, truly not interested in pursuing your birthright any more?” For once, he pushes  _ into  _ the darkness, determined to know if the man tries to lie.

Sephiroth is silent for a long while, meeting Cloud’s gaze evenly. In answer to his push, the darkness surrounds him in such a way that his personal space would have felt less invaded had Sephiroth been physically wrapped around him. Searching, considering, contemplating...the moment stretches between them like a physical thing, warm and dangerous. Cloud bites hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from shivering.

Sephiroth finally sighs and fluidly rolls his shoulders. “As I said. Without you, there would be no satisfaction in it. Take this stalemate for what it is, Cloud. I’m afraid we have quite thoroughly trapped ourselves.”

_ “You _ did all the trapping, you sorry son of a bitch,” Cloud snaps.

“No. Not all of it.” His lips curve slyly. “You give yourself too little credit.”

Cloud grits his teeth and looks away, trying to reign in his anger even as Sephiroth basks in it like an overgrown cat. “Fine. Whatever.” He blows out a sharp breath and looks back up. “If we’re at a stalemate then...what now? I’m not going to let you out if you’re going to try and hurt them.”

Genesis mutters something about that not being Cloud’s decision anyways, but Cloud ignores him.

“That’s hardly necessary now,” says Sephiroth. “You know what we are. You know where we stand. If you wish to enjoy the status quo for as long as you can maintain it, well…” his head tilts slightly. “What are a few more years of patience to one such as I? Perhaps you are even owed such a concession from me after all is said and done.”

_ What else will you have to do but bend to my will once your friends are gone? Who else will you have but me? You have your victory; I have mine.  _ The implications hover in the breath between his words. This is not Sephiroth conceding the battle or yielding to the demands of morality. It is pragmatism in its ugliest form.

Cloud loathes the surge of gratitude he feels.

“I’m not going to thank you,” he says, voice rough and throat tight.

Sephiroth just smiles, tender and indulgent. “My Perfect Storm, I would be disappointed if you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably gonna double back and revise this once it's been out of my head for a week or so. Might add a fourth part then where Angeal finally lets Zack sit on Cloud until he _actually_ 'fesses up.


	4. Zack is FINALLY Allowed to Sit on Cloud Until He 'Fesses Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zack is finally allowed to sit on Cloud until he 'fesses up :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PURE self and audience indulgence here.

Even at sixteen Cloud is stronger than the other Firsts, though he doesn’t _quite_ have the raw strength to match Sephiroth. Given the correct hold, however, he could pin Sephiroth for as long as he pleased even with his lesser strength. As far as the principles of hand-to-hand combat go, it’s a fairly well known one. The thing is, though—

The thing is. 

That same principle? A proper hold overriding raw strength? 

It also applies to him.

Which is why he finds himself in his current predicament.

“Zack, get _off,”_ he snaps, not bothering to struggle just yet. The older boy’s greater mass is more than enough to hold his legs down and he’s got Cloud’s arms pinned high up on his back, where he can’t get any leverage. This was clearly planned in excruciating detail, because his head landed squarely on a pillow that’s thin enough to keep his neck from cramping but soft enough that he could lay there on the floor for quite a while without becoming uncomfortable.

He also knows they planned this because the moment he’d walked into the apartment, Angeal had snatched Tsurugi from his back and then Cloud had been neatly tripped by Genesis, caught by Zack, and pinned to the floor before he could do more than blink in shock. 

He tries not to fume. He also tries not to panic. He knows that they’re doing this because they care about him and, as far as they’re concerned, the past few days have gone beyond ‘concerning’ and straight into ‘absolutely horrifying.’ They’re just trying to help.

It really doesn’t make the situation much easier to bear, though.

“No can do, Stormcloud,” Zack says cheerfully. Of course he’s cheerful, he’s not the one being _sat on_ . His hands feel like warm steel bands locked around Cloud’s wrists. He continues, blissfully unaware of Cloud’s growing crabiness, “I haven’t been around you nearly as long as Gen and ‘Geal and even _I_ know that it’s _waaaay_ past time for you to tell us the truth.”

Cloud cranes his neck to the point of discomfort so he can see Zack’s face. “I _never_ lied to you,” he says firmly. Which is absolutely true. He may have... _misdirected_ , and used enough misleading half-truths to make Tseng proud, and resolutely stonewalled them at times, but he’d never, _ever_ lied.

Zack’s grin softens a bit. “Didn’t say you did, bud.”

“Indeed you did not,” Genesis agrees from where he lounges on the couch, positioned exactly in the center of Cloud’s sightline when he relaxes his neck. Angeal sits next to him, looking tired but determined as he stares Cloud down with his arms crossed over his chest, like the world’s most disappointed father-figure. Cloud would be impressed if that look were aimed anywhere but at him. As it is, he’s careful to keep from meeting either of their eyes directly.

Genesis flicks open the thick file folder in his lap and continues. “We all know you are not in the habit of lying, darling. How fortunate for us! This will go much smoother than it otherwise might have.”

Cloud squints warily at the sheaf of papers that Genesis pulls forth and brandishes like a weapon. “...what are you talking about?”

Genesis smiles, a tight-lipped thing composed entirely of grim determination. “I have here a compilation of documents that Angeal and I have been curating for the past ten years. Reports, journal entries from the two of us, notes, and most importantly transcripts of the…frankly horrifying things you tend to say off-hand.” He looks very pleased with himself. “And _you,_ my darling boy, are going to explain all of them.”

Cloud blanches, squirming in an instinctive effort to get up and bolt. He manages to shift maybe a centimeter before Zack pulls his arms up a little in warning. “Nuh-uh, Cloudy,” the older boy says. “Don’t even try.”

“Guys, come on,” Cloud says in a tone that might be charitably interpreted as pleading but is actually closer to whining, “this is unnecessary. It doesn’t matter! It’s over now!”

“It _does_ matter, Cloud,” Angeal counters sternly, totally unmoved by his pleading. “By your own admission you had to be _actively threatened_ to keep from committing suicide! Even if it is ‘over’ now, that’s not something I’m willing to _let go._ ”

Cloud winces and buries his face in the pillow, muffling his miserable groan. “I should've talked to Sephiroth alone,” he mumbles to himself, lightly thumping his forehead against the ground. It’s not quite as cathartic with the pillow in the way.

“Hey, c’mon,” Zack cajols, shifting his weight more securely across Cloud’s legs. “Don’t be like that! You know you can tell us anything. What are you afraid of?” It’s an echo of what he said four years ago, but this time he doesn’t follow up with a guess. He might not even _have_ a guess.

They’re not going to back off this time. Cloud knows that. They wouldn’t have put so much effort into ambushing him if they weren’t determined to pry answers out of him. Shiva’s sake, they have an entire _file,_ ten years worth of documents to use against him! But still, as he draws in a steadying breath and his lungs fill with the scent of Angeal’s favorite fabric softener, he considers the odds of stonewalling them. How long would he have to keep silent until they gave up?

Genesis knows him too well though. “Don’t you even _think_ about shutting us out, Cloud Strife. We’re doing this because we love you and it’s high time that you stopped being such a hard-headed fool about _asking for help_ , do you understand me? _You are not alone._ Get that through your thick skull!”

Cloud bites the inside of his cheek until his tongue floods with copper. He clenches his eyes shut as they start to sting, keeping his face safely buried in the pillow. _I can’t,_ he thinks, bordering on desperate. _I can’t._

And then he thinks, _what did I ever do to deserve them?_ They tried, _try_ , so hard and all he ever repays them with is trouble and pain. They should have given up on him a long time ago. They should have kept themselves _safe_ and let him do what he needed to do, even if it ended with him taking Sephiroth’s hand and sacrificing himself for everything he loves.

“Hey, _hey,_ Cloudy,” Zack soothes, and Cloud realizes that somewhere between Genesis’s scolding and his own despair, he started hyperventilating. 

_Again_. 

He seems to have lost a minute or two as well. How he missed Zack releasing him from the hold and pulling him upright, he doesn’t know, but now his forehead is resting against the older teenager’s collarbone. Genesis and Angeal must have moved too, because he can feel their heat at his back, hemming him in on all sides.

He almost laughs. It may not be physical any more, but he’s still pinned in place with no chance of squirming free. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“You...should have stayed...away…” he manages to get out between ragged gasps. Bloody saliva wets his lips as he grits his teeth and throws every ounce of his will into controlling himself. The darkness in the back of his mind radiates faint amusement at his predicament. He slaps it into a corner and muffles the connection as best he can. This is none of Sephiroth’s business.

“Cloud—” Angeal starts in his distinctive _I’m-going-to-talk-you-down-from-this-now_ voice, but Genesis interrupts him.

“Stayed away when, Cloud?” he asks calmly, smoothing his hand over Cloud’s shoulder and settling it at the base of his neck. He doesn’t have his gloves on. The warmth of his bare palm is soothing, but the placement of his hand is a warning.

“The...whole time. The whole...fucking... _t-time!”_

“Why?”

“Should have...been safe…” he laughs a little and then wonders when he grabbed a fistful of Zack’s shirt. His other hand is gripping his thigh hard enough to bruise, but for once the pain isn’t helping him get his control back.

It feels like that night in Wutai again. It feels like seeing Zack for the first time. Like he’s falling apart and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Like every single stitch he’s painstakingly sewn to keep his tattered soul in one piece is coming unravelled under his fingers.

He’s so tired of falling apart.

“You should...h-have...been s-safe,” he repeats, suddenly choking on a sob despite his efforts to keep it locked in his chest. “I wasn’t w-worth it.”

And, alright, maybe they do have a point about the necessity of spilling his guts. He’s stubborn, not stupid. He spent _years_ living under the threat of their deaths and now that it’s over (seems to be over) the weight he’d had to ignore for his own sanity is crashing down on him all at once. It hurts so bad he can hardly breathe—can’t breathe at all, actually, his chest is heaving but the air is getting caught in his throat and _oh god, they could have died over this, if he had failed differently, if Sephiroth hadn’t realized—_

_“Shh, Cloud...Cloud darling...it’s alright, we’re alright…it’s over now, it’s alright...shhh….”_

Genesis is talking, he thinks, but he just can’t understand the words. _Gaia,_ they should never have even looked his way. They came _so close_ to dying on Masamune’s edge. And then they were stupid enough to interfere in his fight. They were stupid enough to _put Sephiroth to sleep,_ as if they could have won that battle. What if they had been too early? What if it hadn’t worked? Sephiroth would have killed them without hesitation, all because they were idiotic enough to try and stick their necks out _for him._

_“Ok, alright, come here. Shh, it’s alright, do you feel that? We’re right here. We’re not hurt and we’re not going anywhere. It’s alright now, love.”_

He’s cocooned in warmth, braced on all sides with so many gentle touches that he can’t keep track of them. Time passes in fits and starts. He can’t remember closing his eyes. His heart is thundering in his ears, flooding his skin with painful prickling heat. He’s aware, distantly, that he’s gasping for each breath like a drowning man, that his lips are moving, that words are forcing their way from his mouth.

_“Shh-shh-shh, no, don’t be sorry. Shh...Cloud, it’s alright...you have nothing to apologize for, sunshine.”_

He put them in _so much danger,_ just because he wasn’t strong enough to be alone. Gods, he’s so selfish. He should have done something— _anything_ —to keep them away. They should hate him for this.

_Why don’t they hate him?_

_“Cloud Strife,_ open your eyes this instant!”

He jolts at the sudden shout, eyes wrenching open as alarm cuts through his despair. Genesis’s blurred face looms above him, just a few inches away. Cloud is leaning against someone else and he thinks Genesis might be gripping one of his hands. It’s hard to tell but he doesn’t have time to figure it out, because Genesis starts laying into him as soon as he makes eye contact.

“Do you really have such a low opinion of us that you think we’re too _stupid_ to know what we were getting into when we chose to stay with you?” he asks severely. He _is_ holding one of Cloud’s hands with both of his, cradled over his heart like a prayer. “Do you have such a low opinion of us that you think we would run away at the first sign of danger? Do you think us so cowardly? So callous? I cannot conceive a worse villain than the one you would have us be, Cloud Strife!”

_What,_ Cloud wants to ask, but he’s still choking on each breath. His bewilderment must be clear in his face, because Genesis’s severe expression melts into something painfully tender. 

“Dear one,” he murmurs, reaching out and brushing his knuckles across Cloud’s cheek. His fingers feel jarringly cold against Cloud’s fevered skin. “Why must you be so determined to play the martyr? Cloud, we didn’t choose to love you because we were ignorant of the danger—we chose _in spite of it._ You are more than worth the price.”

Cloud doesn’t understand, but his heart might, because a fresh wave of tears spill down his face. “Shouldn’t have,” he manages, hiccuping through the words.

“It was our choice to make,” Angeal refutes softly, rumbling against Cloud’s back.

He shuts his eyes again, trembling, but...how can he deny them their agency in this? Wouldn’t he have felt exactly as insulted if Tifa had said something like that about getting him into AVALANCHE? How can he ignore their courage and honor and strength of character and yes, maybe even their reckless stupidity? They gave _so much_ to him. He owes them _so much._

He owes them everything, really.

“Okay,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s been gargling rocks for an hour. “Okay, you win.”

* * *

He stays exactly where he is, wrapped up in their warmth, eyes shut against the sight of their reactions, and tells the story in stumbling pieces. He doesn’t have the strength to tell them all of it ( _the heart of it_ ), but he lays out nearly everything from the moment he fully woke up in the Nibelheim lab onward. It’s a fairly dry story as he delivers it. He skims quickly over each event, unwilling to linger on any one part. They probably think he’s being flippant, but he just wants to get it over with.

No one interrupts, but he does hear occasional muted gasps, or hard swallows, or the faint but distinctive sounds of clenching fists and gritting teeth. By the time he finishes, Zack and Gen have his hands in death grips and Ange’s arms are locked around him like steel girders. He still can’t bring himself to open his eyes, so he just falls silent and waits for the fallout.

Beneath the inevitable dissociation, he feels...oddly calm, and lighter than he has in years. He’s not at peace—not by a longshot—but it’s such a relief to know that _they_ know. Maybe if he really told them _everything_ …

But no, his stomach churns just thinking about it. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to get the words out. This much will have to be good enough.

It’s Zack who speaks first. “Hey, sunshine, you wanna open your eyes for me?” he coaxes, drawing Cloud out of his thoughts. 

There’s a constant, fine tremor running through his body, he realizes. He’s probably worrying them, shaking and silent and shut-away as he seems. So he inhales deeply and forces the dissociation down a bit, then cracks his eyes open in the general direction of Zack’s voice. He doesn’t have the energy to raise his eyelids more than halfway, so he kinda squints and blinks a few times until Zack’s face comes into focus.

Cloud doesn’t think he can bear much more emotional intensity at the moment though, so before Zack can speak he rasps “don’ call me sunshine” in the crabbiest voice he can muster.

Zack laughs, though it’s hardly more than a soft huff of air across his tongue. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, keeping his voice soft. Then he pauses and his expression turns a strange mix of sad and proud. “You’re so brave, bud,” he says. “And so strong. Thank you. For telling us. I know it must have been really hard for you.”

Cloud is mentally forty-two: middle aged, practically an old man. So how the _hell_ does this eighteen-year-old have the power to make him feel like the sixteen-year-old he _isn’t?_ He sighs a little, feeling amused and defeated and fond all at once. It’s _Zack_. He’d probably still have that kind of power over him even if Cloud was a hundred.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, feeling the tips of his ears burn.

“Thank you,” Zack repeats unrepentantly, squeezing his hand a little. “And...I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

Cloud scowls fiercely. “Ok, _actually_ shut up,” he says, raising one tired leg to plant his boot in Zack’s stomach. “You helped as much as you possibly could.” He looks up at Gen and Ange too, though he can’t bear the intensity of their expressions for longer than a second. “All of you. And if you start feeling guilty cuz you couldn’t do the impossible I’ll—I'll—I’ll _fight you,_ got it?”

The tension breaks, at least a little, as they all laugh at his inelegant threat. Cloud isn’t really joking though, and he’s sure he’s actually going to have to follow through on it in the coming days. He knows self-recrimination when he sees it.

“Crabby are we?” Genesis asks fondly. “I think you could use a nap, darling.”

“‘M not _five,_ Gen,” he says, even though the man is absolutely right.

Which is the kind of attitude an actual five-year-old would have but shut up.

Angeal snorts. “Ah, and there’s the proof that you _do_ need to sleep. Come on, Cloud, up we go.” 

Cloud growls a little as Angeal hauls him upright and herds him toward his room. “I’m not a kid, I don’t need _naps_ ,” he repeats for the sake of his pride, even though he would have absolutely passed out right there on the floor if he hadn’t been pulled to his feet. 

“Of course not,” Angeal soothes, amused. “But still, humor us, just this once.”

“Just this once,” Cloud grumbles, staggering over to his bed and collapsing onto it face-first. _Gaia,_ he’s exhausted. Dragging the blanket over himself sounds like a monumental task, much less taking his boots off. He settles for passing out as-is.

Half-asleep already, he hears Genesis click his tongue from somewhere to his left. “Not a child, but he passes out like one,” the man says. Angeal stifles a laugh, then there are hands unlacing his boots and gently working his harness off. Fragile warmth blooms in his chest at their care ( _had he been afraid they would stop?_ ) and the lingering dregs of his fear finally vanish.

Genesis lifts him for a moment as Angeal draws the covers back, then he’s set back down and swathed in blissful warmth.

“Sleep well,” Genesis whispers, settling his hand briefly on Cloud’s head before he leaves with Angeal and the door clicks shut behind them.

They’re going to be a headache tomorrow, Cloud knows. Nothing of this magnitude is ever settled so easily, and it’s not as if Sephiroth is actually _gone._ They’re going to clash and argue and everyone is going to try and take responsibility for things they’re not responsible for. There’s going to be guilt and hurt and helplessness. But for now…

For now, Cloud is content to rest in the love of his makeshift little family.

Cloud’s eyes pop open suddenly as a thought occurs to him.

_VINCENT!_

* * *

**Bonus:**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cloud is a contrary little bastard to write. In the first draft he said to me "Zack can sit on me as long as he wants, I'll just pass out on the floor to escape the situation," and then I had to scrap that draft and force him to cooperate.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come join me on Tumblr for illustrations and updates](https://aimeelouart.tumblr.com/)   
> 


End file.
